


Let's Play

by LadyStrangeandUnusual (Dream_Wreaver)



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Kissing Games, Light Petting, Musicalbabes, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24073516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/LadyStrangeandUnusual
Summary: When Beetlejuice returns to the Deetz-Maitland house, it provides an opportunity for Lydia to do some self-discovery. But the safest way to deal with a demon, is to only play. Too bad demons play for keeps.
Relationships: Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz
Comments: 9
Kudos: 89





	Let's Play

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guess what I found sitting in my drive? A finished story. Unfortunately I've done a lot of growing as a writer since I wrote it, so this is a refurbished fic that I tailored to hopefully reflect my interpretations of the characters. Hope you enjoy!

Normalcy was not something Lydia Deetz had ever aspired to, a lesson firmly taught by her beloved, belated mother Emily. Normalcy went hand in hand with complacency, and complacency was just another word for dissatisfaction with one’s life. Thanks to Miss Argentina, Lydia knew that death was not the answer to the question of seeking happiness. Death was just another state of being, but unlike life which was animated and changing, death was static, flat, lifeless. Adam and Barbara were stuck in the same clothes they’d worn when they died -not quite having gotten a handle on most of their ghostly abilities yes. Not like Be- no, no, _bad_ Lydia. She shouldn’t even _think_ his name. Not after the hell he’d put everyone through. No, she would think about normalcy, and how despite the fact that there were people who went to great lengths to avoid it, despite how it had never been what Lydia wanted for herself; normalcy was a hydra with many heads. And all it took was time. Three months. Just three months after everything had gone down. And it was all normal. So normal. Go to normal school, come home to normal house, say hi to normal ghosts that lived in the normal attic. It was normal, because it had _become_ normal. And with normalcy came boredom.

Boredom, now that was the one thing Emily, Lydia, and Delia shared as common ground. Normalcy meant boredom and boredom was not something they liked. Being normal meant being like, like… Adam and Barbara. Which wasn’t to say there was anything _wrong_ with them. There wasn’t. Being normal suited them. But Delia preferred her new age zen mother thing. And Emily had liked making the neighbors stare after her in shock and concern. Which left Lydia. What was her thing? What was her brand of weird? What was her abnormal? She liked to think that she was goth, but that didn’t mean much in this day and age. Being goth was both normal and abnormal at the same time. Anyone could be goth, people might think you were weird for enjoying it but there was nowhere near as much social stigma as there had been even ten years previous. That little girl scout, Skye Lydia recalled her name had been, had called her a nerd. But nerd didn’t seem to fit either. She supposed she was a nerd in that she was passionate about what she liked and that she was fairly intelligent too, but she didn’t fit the nerd stereotype either.

Lydia liked things that were creepy, abnormal, weird, and maybe perhaps a little… monstrous. The subjects of her photography -the living ones anyways- were often bugs and insects. Spiders, in particular, were her favorite. So many legs, so many venomous varieties. Drawing in their prey and sucking everything worth taking out of them. Spiders were fun, and perhaps in a way, studying them was a way to… to recapture something she’d lost. But what was it? What was it about the spiders that enthralled her, the way they waited, luring their prey in with tiny little fibers. And then sticking them fast when their meal was right where they wanted them. There was power in everything the spider did. Maybe that was what Lydia was looking for. Power. Of which, she currently didn’t have much. How could she? She was only seventeen afterall. She had her license, access to her daddy’s car -but only when he didn’t need it. And considering they were in the middle of Nowhere, Connecticut there wasn’t very many times her father _didn’t_ need the car. But she could remember power. That thrilling thrall of having someone completely at your mercy, your beck and call, willing to do anything for you for the barest scraps in return. Lydia remembered power, and tangled up in that memory of power was _him_. Beetlejuice.

If Lydia was asked, any dreams she had recalling the scarring events of just three months were described as nightmares. She supposed that if anyone were to find out the contents of said dreams, which she detailed rather explicitly in a diary she kept in a lockbox hidden under a loose floorboard in her room Adam had offhandedly mentioned wishing he’d been able to fix before his death, they would likely find them nightmarish. But mostly because of _her_ role in them. It began with that night. Always with that night. That night on the roof. When she’d been willing to jump to her demise just to show her father… show him what exactly she was still a little unclear on even now. But that night, as he stopped her from jumping off the roof multiple times and was more than ecstatic to finally have someone recognize him. See that he was there. And how willing he had been to debase himself before her because of it.

Down on his hands and knees, crawling about like a little worm, trying his best to con her when really she was the one conning him. She imagined how far he might have gone had they been able to continue uninterrupted by Adam and Barbara. He’d said she wouldn’t believe how far he would go if she said it three times, just how far would he have gone to get her to say it? And the ideas that came running through her mind at such a proposition… Lydia wouldn’t have called it an awakening of sorts. But it had been a feeling she knew she could have gotten used to. Or maybe, she already had. Those dreams would often continue on into the three day span of bliss, where any and everyone who’d come to their door had been a victim of Beetlejuice’s macabre and sadistic sense of humor. And all of it at her command.

 _“You wanna answer it this time?”_ _she’d ask. He’d look like a dog being told they were going to go outside, and play. His grin would be big and dopey eager to please as he informed her,_

_“More than anything!”_

_Lydia would purse her lips and pretend to think about it. Long and hard, until his face would fall, and he would think she’d say no. But with a long suffering sigh, she would relent and allow him to do it, “Don’t oversell it, act natural,”_

_And he would deliver._

She imagined what would have happened had she’d been able to come to terms with her mother’s death earlier. Still miserable, but able to talk and grieve properly. If he hadn’t gotten so clingy things had broken between them; how they would have teamed up to scare Delia and her father out of the house for good, with no chance of them _ever_ coming back. The things they could have done, the lives they could have ruined for their own amusement…

Lydia almost wished he were still here. _Almost_. Not quite. But perhaps the Netherworld worked on different rules. Because one knock on the door on a blustery autumn day had brought the demonic poltergeist back into everyone’s lives… and afterlives. Beetlejuice must have been quite the actor, because he actually looked somewhat sheepish. The reason for this became clear the moment he was let into the house. A woman was behind him. Introduced herself as Juno. The _real_ Juno. The false Juno in question actually being named Hypatia. Figures. In no uncertain terms Juno had informed them that as punishment for creating so much chaos in both worlds, on top of feeding his own mother to a sandworm, Beetlejuice was hereby banished back to earth. More specifically, his parameters of haunting were limited strictly to the Deetz-Maitland household unless someone set him free. When protests had been raised, the ghostly caseworker called on her own hellish powers to inform them they had no choice in the matter. The powers that be had decided the safest place for Beetlejuice to stay was with his ball and chain. Lydia. More protests had been raised at that. They couldn’t still be married, not according to human laws. But human laws had no say in this matter. According to the Netherworld, Lydia Deetz had married a dead man, and since Beetlejuice was dead, the marriage held. And while the conversations raged on, fraught with emotion and arguing, Lydia herself sat there with a sort of preternatural calm. Just taking everything in. Beetlejuice was back, and he was her problem now. Juno disappeared in an angry puff of smoke, and the others left to sort out their own feelings on the subject. Only Lydia and Beetlejuice remained in the living room now.

Hesitantly, Beetlejuice raised a hand in greeting, “‘Sup Lyds?” he asked, “Long time no see,”

“Hmm,” Lydia hummed noncommittally, still trying to figure out how she felt about the whole situation. What it meant for her now that Beetlejuice was back. That they were still married, and how did it play into her search for her own identity?

Garnering a less emotional response than he would have liked Beetlejuice tried again, “I mean, it’s been a while… right?”

He didn’t really know how long they’d been separated. She might have guessed. But he was still so concerned with getting her to notice him. He may have been disgusting, but Lydia had to admit that part of her found it adorable. And then, Lydia got an idea. An awful, terrible idea. Lydia Deetz had an awful, terrible, no good idea. Her lips curled slightly at the edges and slowly stood, walking over to him,

“It has been, hasn’t it?” she asked, tone even and almost a little fake in its false pleasantness, “Three months, right? Or was it shorter for you? I know that time moves differently when you’re dead.”

“Doesn’t stop it from moving though,” Beetlejuice replied.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Lydia asked conversationally, circling round the back of the couch, lightly brushing her fingers along his shoulders as she passed, “That we’re still married, don’t you think?”

“I’m not really surprised,” Beetlejuice replied, “That’s the loophole Juno used to set my banishment parameters. Did a bit of work for her before getting banished, good teacher, though I think she didn’t mean to be. But loopholes and rules are her thing. She’s as good at exploiting them as I am,”

“Must be where you got it from,” Lydia murmured, “I think you’re better at it though,”

“I’m sorry, what?” he seemed confused, but open to the idea. Just the way she wanted him.

“Well I mean,” she plopped down on the arm of the couch closest to where he was sitting, “You pulled a more masterful bait and switch than I ever could have imagined you doing,” Lydia told him, “Now that I’ve had time to really think it over I mean, wow, that was probably the best con I saw you pull,”

“I would argue the one where you convinced me to do the wedding only to murder me a few seconds later might stand a chance in comparison,” Beetlejuice told her. He eyed her position on the arm briefly, but since she made no move to strike him he thought nothing further of it.

“Well,” Lydia shrugged, “Maybe, but then again, maybe I was only doing what I felt I had to,”

“What?”

“Oh, you know,” Lydia leaned in a little, “You know no father ever wants to see his daughter get married. But how was I supposed to save everyone and get out of it? I’d only just reconciled with him, but I still felt bad for you. And if I’m being honest here,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “I’m… glad you’re back,”

Beetlejuice was silent a moment, “Nope, sorry, not buying it. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, I deserve a shaft to the back,”

“I mean it though,” Lydia insisted, “Beetlejuice I…” without even thinking about it she slid herself until she was seated in his lap, hands tucking themselves under the open lapels of his jacket, “I missed you.”

One might have thought that he would be scared, or at the very least suspicious of her feeling so comfortable and touchy around him. But all he did was raise a brow, like he could see right through what she was doing. Yet, he wasn’t going to do anything about it, it seemed. And he very well could have. He had ghostly powers, surely he could just manifest himself somewhere else if he really wanted to get away from her. Come on little fish, just bite.

“Lydia,” Beetlejuice smirked, like he knew her little secret. But he wasn’t precisely mad about her doing it. Typical pervert, always down to get his rocks off, and clearly having fun with her acting all bold. She almost wanted to pout, he was the one in hostile territory here. Lydia doubted that anyone would believe her capable of any wrong doing if they were to get caught, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Is there anything _wrong_ with what I’m doing?” she asked in reply, still trying to play up the innocent act, “I mean, we _are_ married, after all.”

“I’m aware,” Beetlejuice countered, “But the last time you got all touchy like this you were searchin’ fer a good place t’stick the knife, or business end of some bad art as it were. So you really think I shouldn’t be suspicious of you settlin’ yer perky li’l goth ass right over my junk?”

Was it just her, or did he seem a little nervous? Or… maybe not nervous, cautious was perhaps a better word for it. At least, that’s what she surmised from the quick glace over to the kitchen where all her parental units were quietly discussing read, arguing, over what they could do with him. But his attention was nonetheless distracted, Lydia wondered what she could do to make him not care.

“You know,” she abruptly changed course, having no good counter response to that, “Do you remember the night you scared off father and Maxie Deen and his other investors?”

“Course I do,” Beetlejuice was instantly caught up in nostalgia, “Best scare I’d had in a while,”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Lydia giggled girlishly, nothing at all like her normal laugh. But she was still reeling him in, “I was thoroughly impressed,”

“Oh, you were were ya?” he was giving her the biggest, smarmiest smirk he could muster, cold hands found themselves gently moving over her thighs and creeping up under her skirt. Lydia had to admit, she may have not thought this course of action through entirely. But fuck it, she’d started this, she wasn’t about to chicken out now. Now the challenge was to try and see who flinched first. And Lydia Deetz was no chicken.

“Mhmm,” she nodded slowly, one of her hands migrating until she could twirl his tie around her fingers, “Y’know, I never told you this but…” she leaned in as though she were confiding a secret in him, “I was so happy that you got them all out like that, I could have kissed you,”

“Right, I’m sure ya could’ve,” he parried, once again glancing over to the closed kitchen door to watch for interlopers, “And yet, ya didn’t. Why is that?”

“Well, I guess I still had some of father’s rules ingrained in me. I couldn’t kiss a man I had just met, even if he’d done something so nice for me,”

“I don’t do nice kid,” Beetlejuice told her, emphasizing his point by slipping one hand up onto her ass and giving it a firm squeeze, “I’m made for causing chaos,”

“And what wonderful chaos you caused,” she told him with dark eyes and a little more sultry in her voice, “Really, it’s been so boring without you around you know. Tell me, would you be up for a little… fun, later?”

“Always babes,” Beetlejuice assured her. Yet his hands stilled and slipped back from under her skirts to lay benignly at his sides and he even craned his neck back to keep his face out of close proximity with her own, “But ah, I’m well aware I’m on thin ice at the moment. Last thing I want is some punk attempting to exorcise me.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, “That’s the last thing I want too. So… looks like all you have to do, is not get caught,” she rested her head in the crook of his neck, idly fiddling with his clothes. Lydia knew she had him, as soon as she heard the soft hitch of his breath. Considering he was dead, she knew it wasn’t because of breathing, it was because he was quickly ceding any mental control over to her, whether he realized it or not.

“Well come on Beej,” Lydia cajoled, “How ‘bout a little kiss for your shy and retiring bride?”

“Lyds, you’re still a minor,” he reminded her. As if that had been a detail that had stopped him before.

She’d remembered the way she’d teased him, taunted him, the way he took the bait every time. Like she would have high-kicked with enough distance for her skirts to fall to her thighs for just anyone. And he’d looked then. She’d caught him looking, she’d wanted him to look. So why the resistance now? He’d already done a bit of feeling her up, was a kiss really too much to ask for?

“But I’m already married,” Lydia argued, throwing in a pout in order to get her way, “Surely they can’t begrudge me this, begrudge _us_ this, right?” she could have brought up the touches, matter of fact she wanted to because her skin felt strangely bereft without his touch. Only out of fear she’d push him too far and he’d bolt did she resist, “After all, whether they like it or not now, we’re a team.”

“A,” Beetlejuice hesitated, “A team?” she felt his fingers flex at his sides, clutching desperately at the material of the couch beneath him. He was losing control. For all his macho posturing, he seemed to crumble under her touch, under just the slightest bit of nudging from her. Were all men this easy to manipulate Lydia wondered. Or was it only lonely demons with abandonment issues?

“Well,” she sighed, “I suppose if you’re too scared to do it,” she trailed off, leaning in and leaving the rest of her message quite clear. Only problem was, this was her first time really putting someone under her spell. Naturally she’d be nervous, but certain sacrifices would simply have to be made. Her first kiss? In the grand scheme of things it was really a trifle, one she could part with for the promise of more appealing things. Like a demon eager to please under her control.

Even so, she was so nervous she missed his mouth almost completely, only managing a soft peck at one of its corners. Lydia closed her eyes, pretending she really was into it as she brought a hand up to cup the side of her husband’s face. She felt Beetlejuice still at her ministration. Clearly he was unused to affectionate touch without some immediate repercussions. Well, he wasn’t the only con around, and clearly Lydia was much better at this game than he was. Slowly, Lydia pulled back and opened her eyes. Beetlejuice looked shocked, but almost… bemused?

“You call that a kiss?” he asked her, raising a brow. And the glint in his eyes was all the affirmation to what he was. A devil. A demon. And not one who was by any means predictable.

“Was it no good?” Lydia asked, still playing up the innocent act, “I’ve never really kissed anybody before you know. Won’t you show me how it’s done?”

Beetlejuice quickly glanced around, “Here, now?” Seemed like he was very much aware of the fact that this was common space and any one of his less than pleased compatriots could walk in on them. Lydia clearly wasn’t doing her job well enough if this was the case.

“Please?” Lydia batted her eyes. A trick she’d learned from her mother whenever Emily had wanted something from Charles he would normally deny her. Considering that was a rare occasion in and of itself, Lydia was impressed by how well she seemed to be pulling it off. At least, if Beetlejuice’s own expression was any indication.

“Just remember,” he rasped in her ear as he tugged her closer, “If we get caught, _you_ asked for it.”

One of his hands slithered up to cup her neck and the back of her head and with a softness she hadn’t expected from him their lips met. Lydia was now the one whose turn it was to be stunned. For one thing, as ballsy as the demon was, he’d only ever shown restraint around her when it came to certain things. He’d never once made a move on her even when it had been basically themselves all alone in a big empty house for three days. And yet supposedly when it came to Adam and Barbara (mostly Adam though) he was an incorrigible pervert. But his kiss? It was soft, it was gentle, it was… it was a beginner’s kiss. And it only took a brief second for Lydia to realize he was using it to mock her. Mock her inexperience. And the rage that filled her funneled straight into her own actions, moving her mouth against his and even darting her tongue out as she’d read about in some of her mother’s less than age appropriate novels Emily had often left lying about the house with easy access for an impressionable Lydia. She licked at Beetlejuice’s lower lip, an unspoken entreaty for entry. One that he granted. And from there, Lydia felt lost. For a brief moment before her mind was awash in the dizzying sensations she wondered if he’d known her game all along. But after a moment she couldn’t find it in herself to care, not so long as he kept kissing her like that. For a disgusting, perverted, and no good demon, he was surprisingly a good kisser.

The moment was broken when she heard Delia call out, “Lydia!” Instantly Beetlejuice disappeared from underneath her, rematerializing on a chair at the dining set a short distance away.

Delia entered the room, closely followed by Adam and Barbara, “Lydia dear, what do you want for dinner tonight? Your father and I were thinking Thai but the Maitlands-” she paused as she saw the position her stepdaughter was in, “Lydia, sweetie, what are you doing?”

“Uh…” Lydia frantically scrambled for an excuse, “I.. was just… looking for my camera lens! Yeah, I… remember I lost it last week and I haven’t been able to find it? I just realized maybe I dropped it behind the couch,”

“But Lydia,” Barbara pointed out, “The couch isn’t up against a wall, you could just be standing behind it,”

“You are… absolutely right Barbara,” Lydia agreed, quickly standing up off the couch, “Except I’d wondered if maybe I’d dropped it in the cushions and I was just looking over to wonder if it had rolled by the door when you came in.”

“Okay…” Barbara uneasily agreed. She raised a skeptical brow, however, at seeing Beetlejuice seated at the dining room table, “And Beetlejuice, why aren’t you helping her with this?”

“She said I could help by staying out of her way,” Beetlejuice lied, easy as anything. He didn’t even blink.

“And you listened?” Adam asked, equally as skeptical as his wife, “That’s gotta be a first, don’t you think hun?”

“I would say so,” Barbara agreed, “Are you sure that’s _all_ that’s been going on here?”

“Babs please,” Beetlejuice scoffed, standing up and joining Lydia, “You really think I find her attractive? She’s as flat as a board on both ends! Oh, and let’s not forget she did stab me in the back.”

Through a gritted grin Lydia scoffed. He certainly hadn’t been complaining when he’d had his tongue down her throat. But he continued as though he hadn’t heard her, “Look, this marriage thing might be permanent for now, but all I ever intended it to be was business. Strictly business, get what I’m saying?”

“Considering how much you’ve lied, extorted, and tortured?” the Maitlands asked him, “No, we can’t say we do.”

His grin fell, clearly upset his usual… “charm” wasn’t working this time, “Fine,” he allowed, “I know it’s not worth much to you guys but I promise you I never intended to lay a hand on her. Cross my heart and hope to die, again.”

There was a tense moment of awkward silence before Delia broke it with a, “Well, that settles that then. Now, we need to decide what we’re going to have for dinner and…” she prattled on and on even as she left the room.

“Mr. Beetlejuice,” Adam began cordially, “The Deetzes and us are going to be laying some ground rules down concerning your staying here from now on. We expect you to be at the table when dinner is ready.”

Beetlejuice leered at him, “God you’re sexy when you talk like that,” he growled, but in an exaggerated manner that Lydia could easily tell was faked. The grin and eyes were too wide, and there was a teasing glint that flashed, looking to feed off the agitation and discomfort of his victim.

Adam bristled, and then walked away before he could really lose… something. Either his temper or his nonexistent lunch. Probably both. Barbara followed him, but not without shooting a warning glare his way.

“So,” Beetlejuice began, turning his smarmy grin on Lydia, “Still wanna play this game kid?”

His question was the answer to her unspoken one. The one she’d had since she’d begun and his reaction hadn’t been nervousness. He’d known the whole time what she’d been trying to do. And here she’d sincerely thought she’d had him for a minute. Lydia should have known better, since when had he given a flying fuck about rules or taboos? Had she not been included in that orgy comment on their wedding day? Wouldn’t have been very hard for him to say she wasn’t. But here, and now, he’d played her, letting her think she’d been playing him. He’d been a willing sucker, just for this moment.

Lydia immediately dropped any pretensions of the act she’d adopted earlier and folded her arms, “Did you buy any of it?” she asked, honestly a little annoyed. She didn’t know if it was because he’d seen through her act the whole time or if she’d let herself be led on to come to the outcome he wanted most.

“Almost,” he admitted, “With a little practice, you could be as good at conning as me someday,”

“What gave me away?” Lydia asked, dropping her arms with a sigh.

“Laid it on just a little too think when I resisted the first time babes,” Beetlejuice told her, “Remind you of any other dealings you had with me?”

“Well, you bought it back then,” Lydia argued, folding her arms moodily.

“And baby, I’m centuries old, I don’t make the same mistake twice,” he answered, “Though, I gotta say, I’m impressed with how far you were willing to go. Wanna play again?”

“Thought you weren’t attracted to me?” Lydia threw his earlier words back at him.

“Think you forgot I’m a con, cheat, and liar,” Beetlejuice admitted without an ounce of shame, “As if I give a fuck what Daddy Dearest and the fifties sitcom in the attic want me to do. Nah,” he leaned over in his chair and leered at her, “I’m more interested in what _you_ want me to do. Or rather, what you want me to _do_ to you.”

“Well,” Lydia made a show of putting a finger to her lip in thought, “I suppose it wasn’t the _most_ disgusting experience I’ve ever had.”

“Lydia,” Beetlejuice asked her straight on, “Do you wanna play, or not?”

If it were anyone else asking that question, their tone might have been construed for thoughtful, serious, caring even. But with Beetlejuice, this was him egging her on. Calling her a coward if she refused even though they both knew this was a bad idea. But Lydia was too prideful to admit when she was beat. So it began. The rules of their little game were limited to one they’d agreed on, they couldn’t get caught. All the others were set by Lydia’s parental units over dinner that night. Beetlejuice could only spend time with her in a room with open doors, and never at night. He would have to find a space in the house to bunk, and just for good measure, no antics when there were other people around. He couldn’t regardless, but it wasn’t paranoid just to lay down a rule anyways. Beetlejuice agreed to all of this easily, more entertained by thoughts of how to get around the rules than anything else. But his easy acceptance of the parameters they set for him had the adults more on edge than anything.

It only took him a week to win over Charles and Delia. It took a con to know a con, and Beetlejuice was an admirable man when it came to making money work. Charles gleaned lots of valuable advice from the demon, who’d been hanging around long enough to notice tell tale signs of market change trends. Delia liked him because he kept her company while Lydia was in school, and they shared a similar sick sense of humor on certain topics. Beetlejuice had told Lydia one night, in between sessions of their little game, that he’d been right; Delia had done some stuff. While they didn’t exactly _trust_ him, Delia and Charles didn’t mind having him around. A sentiment Beetlejuice laughably said didn’t think would last if they ever caught wind of what he really got up to with Lydia.

Adam and Barbara on the other hand, well old wounds ran deep. They didn’t like him, and they didn’t trust him, regardless of whether or not they may have sympathized with his trademarked tragic backstory. So, unless they needed to be on guard for Lydia’s sake, they avoided him entirely. Beetlejuice only encouraged this behavior, leering and making perverted comments at them when they had to share the same space. Because the more they couldn’t stand him, the more likely they were not to pry into his business. Besides, riling them up was also a nice bonus, he just lived to be a nuisance to his housemates. But back to business.

And currently, his business was Lydia. Their game was simple, make out, a lot. Why? It was a power play really. Lydia wanted him under her thumb, and he was more willing to play nice with the others with a few kisses here and some suggestive promises there. She wanted chores done around the house, a snap of his finger and they were accomplished. She needed an idea to get back at the dumb blonde in her class who thought she was so much better than everyone else? Beetlejuice had plans. She wanted him to stop being so annoying so she could accomplish something? Just a peck with a promise for more later and he was out of her hair.

The only thing that started to bother Lydia as time went on, was that that was _all_ their game seemed to entail. Kissing. Lydia was no fool, and though she hated hearing it, she knew exactly what her father and Delia could get up to late in the night. And while yes, technically most of their makeout sessions included touches; fingers in hair, on legs and hips and chests and stomachs, it was all relatively tame in comparison with what she knew he was capable of. According to the Maitlands, Beetlejuice had a way higher sex drive than they did, but he was contenting himself with kisses and over the clothes touching from his teenaged wife? Something didn’t sit right with Lydia about that. He couldn’t have been cheating, not with another being since he was banished from the Netherworld and no other living people could see him. Not only that, he really wasn’t even allowed to leave the house, because that was where his haunting perimeters ended.

“Okay,” Lydia said as she broke away from him for breath one night. They were down in her darkroom, where Lydia had informed everyone she would be sequestering herself for the rest of the evening to get some shots done for the school newspaper. Those had been finished in about two hours, so naturally Beetlejuice had snuck down for some fun, “What gives?”

“What gives what babes?” Beetlejuice asked her.

“You’re supposedly such a pervert and yet, all you do is kiss me,” Lydia told him.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply here,” Beetlejuice replied, “But let me remind you I do touch you, matter of fact my hands are still currently on your ass. Which reminds me, you get curvier recently?

“Are you seriously asking me if I’ve gained weight in my ass?” Lydia raised an unimpressed brow at him, “Or are you fucking with me to get me upset about something else?”

“Not doin’ nothin,” Beetlejuice said, even taking his hands away to hold them up innocently, “I just want to know how much trouble I’m going to get into here if I upset you.”

“This isn’t about you getting in trouble!” Lydia raised her voice before quickly silencing herself. It was late, but since Adam and Barbara technically didn’t need sleep they would surely come and investigate any noise that might be cause for concern. She broke away from him, pacing a bit as she tried to figure out what she wanted to ask him. But it seemed the only way she could do it was honestly, “Am I… not attractive or something?”

“What kind of question is that?” Beetlejuice asked her, “Of course you’re attractive!”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Lydia muttered sourly. Somewhere along the line she’d started wanting more than a game from this, and his benign touches were only reminding her that that was all this was. But if not a game, what did she want?

“What do you want me to do Lydia?” Beetlejuice sighed as he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, “Thought we were havin’ fun here,”

“Do I _look_ like I’m having fun right now?” Lydia asked him.

Beetlejuice sighed again, “Maybe we should stop.” When he caught sight of Lydia’s shocked and frankly hurt face he quickly felt the need to explain, “Look, I told you, I’m not gonna turn down someone who’s willing. But if we’re gonna be honest here, you seem more and more like you’re pushing yourself to do this.”

“I’m not,” Lydia protested weakly. It was a hollow lie even to her ears, and both of them knew it.

“C’mon Lyds,” he folded his arms, “Look, I’m not a good person. You know this. I lie, I cheat, and I take advantage of others. I’ve been doing that with you, but it was always okay because you knew what you were getting into. But lately…. Hell lately it seems like you’ve been wanting something else. Do you even know what you want? If you can’t answer that question how the fuck am I supposed to know? I know what I want,”

“What do you want?” Lydia asked, needing to know, needing to hear, because hope was starting to flutter like a bird in her chest. And she needed it to either be requited or rejected so she could start again.

“I want you,” Beetlejuice told her, “Every single bit of you. You think I don’t find ya attractive because I play grabass with you over your clothes?” he snorted and shook his head, “Nah, not even close to being right. I can tell you every single fantasy I’ve had about ya since the day we met, every single thing I wanna do to ya as I tear that pretty little lace dress of yours into shreds. But I don’t push any further because you’re the _one_ person in this house I care about. The _one_ person I respect. So I’ve always been willing to let you set the tone, lead the way. But you’re really starting to seem unhappy, like you’re just going through the motions. And fuck me with a silver spoon for sounding like a sap, but I care if you’re happy. If you don’t wanna do this anymore, I’m not gonna think less of you. I’m impressed you stuck with it this long,”

“I-” Lydia didn’t know how to respond. How could she respond to such an impassioned profession of… desire, if nothing else, “If you have one thing going for you,” she told him, “It’s that you’re a good kisser. But, I don’t know, I guess I was feeling a little… confidence shaken? You’re such a letch, and since we’re married, it just feels like the sort of situation you _would_ take advantage of and the fact that you didn’t,” she shrugged again, “I thought you only wanted a game.”

“Kid, it’s not about attraction,” Beetlejuice informed her, “If you come over here I’ll show ya just how attractive I find ya. There’s so much I wanna do to ya, with ya. But fuck me silly if I say I just gotcha back, and I don’t wanna fuck this up again.”

“Again?”

“You really thought that wedding was about a green card?” Beetlejuice raised a brow at her, “Fat fuckin’ chance, I only said that so the audience wouldn’t hate me.”

“What?”

“Uh… nevermind that. Point is, it was always about keepin’ you by my side. I always wanted you Babes, no one else.”

“I…” Lydia was speechless, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say it,” Beetlejuice told her, “I know you feel it too. Just say it,”

“I…” Lydia took a deep breath, “I want you too. I can’t be as romantic and say I always did. I did mean it when I said you looked like a bloated, rotting zebra corpse. But I want you now, and next time, and… for a while after that, at least. You really want me too?”

“Always babes,” Beetlejuice agreed, “Now com’ere,”

She went back into his arms and he kissed her desperately. Hands snuck beneath her clothes, diving past fabric until they were touching skin to skin. Lydia’s own hands busied themselves doing the same. By the time she broke for air, her tights were down to her ankles and his shirt was completely unbuttoned. And she was okay with that. More than okay, she wanted more. And she told him as much.

“Oh babycakes, I’d love to,” Beetlejuice replied, rubbing at her thigh and keeping her tucked close to him, “But since we’re doing things that way,” he continued as he popped them both into her bedroom, with her sprawled out on the mattress beneath him, “mind doing me a favor in return?”

“What do I have to do?” Lydia asked, though she had a pretty good idea of what the answer was.

Beetlejuice’s grin was very much evocative of who he was. A demon, with a demonic, devil may care smile to match. With a mischievous gleam in his eyes he softly cajoled her, “All you gotta do is say my name,”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Thank you so much for reading, until next time Netherlings!


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